Dark Convergence
by Fellow-Sparrow
Summary: Darius, the secret son of Dracula, lives safely hidden away in the mountains & desires nothing more than to join the Holy Order & be like his step brother & father who hunt the supernatural. Too bad for him he's unknowingly one of those monsters & a certain Vampire father has yet to cease his search for his lost son, especially if he is key to bringing his other children to life..
1. Prologue

**AN:** Van Helsing the movie AU. (To those who follow my Star Wars stories don't worry I didn't drop them)

 **Summary:** Only when the mother's heart stopped - did her newborn child's begin to beat. The price to birth a child conceived from the _undead_ came at a heavy price indeed. A child that'd unknowingly stolen the life of its mother to gain a life of its own. Count Dracula, father of the child, planned on raising his hybrid of a son in secrecy, but his parental role came to a swift end when the baby was stolen just months afters its birth.

Seventeen years later Darius, the son of Dracula, lives safely hidden away in the mountains and desires nothing more than to join the Holy Order and be like his older step brother and father who hunt the supernatural. Too bad for him he's one of those monsters and a certain Vampire father has yet to cease his search for him, especially if he is key to bringing his other undead children to life.

* * *

 **Prologue:**

 **The Birth & Abduction of Darius Dragulia **

_**(Seventeen years before the events in the movie. You can skip if you'd like..)**_

* * *

A sharp, agonizing cry filled one of the grand bedchambers located high within the castle's most east upper tower. Often the screaming would cease and be substituted with a few low, pained moans and feeble pleading before they'd instigate again.

It had all began in the middle of the night and surprised all despite how expected it was to be. They'd been well prepared for this particular moment – foretold months ago of the expectation that was to be met. Everything had all come down to this moment, more serve than some think it to be.

More serve to those who know nothing of it.

The past few months had been so imperative for the sake this event. Emotions changed and blared like a silent storm, harshly affecting all those forced to walk through it and oblivious to all who looked a different way. Where there had once been so much light and joy had been swiftly replaced with darkness and near dismay.

Dismay for what was to come.

For what was happening _now_.

But there was also a hint of…adoration.

The sun was soon to rise and the screaming had yet to stop. The woman rested aching on her bed, coaxed in sweat and evident of a night spent in the throws of painful child labor. She whimpered and clutched the sheets, nails ready to tear what had not been so finely sewn. Her pleads were desperate and mumbled, mixed between her cries and heavy breathing.

Her eyelids fluttered erratically, her gaze darting around the room rapidly until they stilled on the figure dressed in all black. Helpless she grinned between another pained moan and shakily reached one pale arm out towards them, beckoning them to her side.

The figure didn't hesitate and seemed to glide across the room at the call. Carefully, as if nervous the woman would be hurt by their touch, the man placed a black-gloved hand in the woman's and slowly weaved their fingers together.

She coughed and a speck of blood was left on the corner of her lip. He reached out with his other hand to clean it from her, his eyes never leaving her as he did so. Her screaming had ceased and she seemed more at peace now than she did in hours. He knew it wouldn't last, though. It was like the calm before the storm.

She smiled silently up at him and he just stared back, not knowing how to respond with the correct emotion when he didn't have any of his own to begin with. Instead, she squeezed her hand encouragingly and watched as her smile grew.

"I'm ready." She breathed, and a tear ghosted down her red cheek. It'd been the most color he'd seen in her face in months.

Her tear filled blue eyes stared up at him and he was caught with the profound sincerity that he saw in them. She was, in fact, ready, and he didn't know how he felt about that. He was hollow and yet he felt the need to feel _something_.

 _Anything_ if just for this moment.

The grip on his hand grew sticker before she threw her head back and her mouth opened in a silent scream for a few seconds before her voice caught up to her. He held on to her hand, torn between watching her pained expression in case she searched for his gaze and the undeniable curious lure he felt to glance at the other end of the bed where her legs were spread and a handmaiden waited.

"Keep pushing."

Another loud scream echoed in the room and the maiden reached forward, grasping for something hidden below the woman's swollen belly.

"Another."

There. A flicker of movement caught his attention and he turned his gaze back on the maiden who retracted her arms and now carried something nimbly in them.

"A male."

He stared, completely transfixed at the bloodied creature that lay quiet and immobile in her arms. The other seasoned nurses began their prearranged duties to assist the head handmaiden and soon the peculiar creature was obstructed from his inquiring vision.

A weak, almost nothing squeeze on his right hand drew his attention back to the woman on the bed who laid still and breathless. Again she smiled and her lips quirked as though she wished to say something but nothing more happened.

They continued on in silence like that, him standing over her and she staring up at him, as the nurses seemed to be fretting over something on the other side of the room. A newborn child's scream nowhere to be heard.

Slowly she licked her lips and eased her breathing, her chest leisurely rising and falling with each breath.

"Darius…" she whispered and the faintest upward curl in the corners of her lips hinted at her pride. "I-I want to name him Darius."

"A man who possesses good." He translated the meaning of the chosen name that he knew she already recognized.

Her smile grew and the delight in her pale blue eyes was unadulterated. "He will bring out the good in this world…" she inhaled a wheezy breath. "and in others."

Her blue eyes stared deeply into his gray ones. "I k-know he will." He felt her fingers twitch against his right hand.

He continued to say nothing and watched as her breathing became slower and slower until her chest barely moved. Her reddened cheeks lost their color and within seconds, her complexion matched the white of the sheets that she lay on. He used his free hand to wipe a strand of golden hair from the corner of her eye, his gloved fingers barely ghosting over her cooling skin.

"H-He can…be y-your salvation."

His fingers froze and his eyes snapped back to her.

"If you let him." She breathed. "If you…"

Unconsciously he tightened his grip on her hand as if the action could keep her here. He could hear the slow rhythm that her heart beat to. It wouldn't be much longer.

"I will damn him." He confessed and stared emotionlessly down at the dying woman. "He is already cursed by being my son – the _Devils_ grandson."

"And Gods."

 _But at what price?_

Her fingers ghosted against his one final time and he wished he'd removed the glove to truly feel it. Her breathing stopped before her heart did. He listened, each beat softer than the next.

Another.

And then she was gone.

Her arm fell limp and gently he placed it next her side, his fingers slowly retracting from her stiff ones. Leaning over the side of her bed he delicately placed a kiss on her forehead.

"May God show you the mercy that he withheld from me," He breathed against the skin near her deaf ear. "My sweet Mirena."

He stood and regarded the young mortal woman who had turned down his offers of immortality. She had been ready to die unlike most. She had something to die for.

A loud, piercing scream sounded then and all those who still had a heartbeat nearly had theirs stop at that moment. Once again his attention was drawn back towards the handmaidens. Clasping his hands behind his back he left the dead woman's bedside and strode towards the group of nervous women.

They all immediately froze when he neared them, his eyes ignoring their frightful expressions as he solely focused on the shrieking child cleaned and wrapped securely. The handmaiden that held the child took a step forward and bowed as she held out the child before her.

"Master…"

He stared at the child for a few seconds before grasping the bundle and drawing the infant close to his chest. He didn't bother looking up as he instructed the group of servants to leave the bedchamber.

Softly, he stretched up and traced a finger along the crying child's face. The infant looked so… _human_. A rapid beating heart could also be heard in the infant's small chest. Red and blotchy from the fresh devilry he could tell that the child had very fair skin, a trait from either its mother or father.

An unusual sensation came over him then when he recognized the obscure coloring of the child's hair. It- _he_ had black hair. He had his father's hair.

His eyes fell to the crack in-between the balcony's doors then back to the child that had quieted down in his father's arms.

"I wonder…"

The double doors opened and the soft glow of the morning sky that had yet to be graced by the sun greeted the pair. The child wiggled in his grasp but made no sound of discomfort against the skies slow transition from dark blue to a purple.

The spring air blew against them as he walked further out and stopped in front of the stone railing. The child shivered but still exhibited no signs of uneasiness.

Finally, with the sun creeping over the peak of the far eastern mountains, the first rays of light began to shine. He held the child out towards the first slither of light and watched fascinatingly as the light glowed against the child's skin and nothing more.

He took a few steps back and stood where the shadows held the heaviest on the terrace. A grin formed on his lips as he cradled the bundled child against him.

With the sun and the moon both sharing the sky, he made a promise to them: _his son will walk under them both. He will be limitless._

He looked back down just as the child gave a yawn and spotted two, small little stubs protruding from his gums. He grinned wider at this – another trait from his father.

"I will teach you all that you will need to know, little one. Soon the world will not just fear _Count Vladislaus Dragulia,_ but also his son _."_

 **-Several Months Later-**

Men marched up the dirt hill in a commanding stride, each armed with a weapon meant for a purpose just as ill as the wicked falsehood that'd been chanted in their willing ears and etched in their heads. They kept to the sunlight and let the morning rays guide them in their trudge towards the castle's foremost entrance.

Leading the group of indomitable townspeople was a tall, robust man who appeared more experienced than most by graying of his fine hair and the cold, unwavering aspect in his sunken eyes. He led the assembly of men with a presence of sturdy resolve that respected generals were known to have carried before the height of an impending battle.

To the citizens of his town, he was known as Dr. John Seward, administrator, and proprietor of the regions most infamous mental sanatorium.

The psychologically ill who were housed there were his to look after, and his to fix by any means necessary. His profession and choice of homestead in the sanatorium often frightened people, which would've resulted in an isolated routine if it had not been for his dear only child.

His once beloved daughter Mirena.

She had been the light of his life and to many others who'd been fortunate enough to encounter her. Her beauty had once drawn many suitors and all their attempts at her hand had been sincere. He'd lived a peaceful life with his daughter until one fateful day when she'd unknowingly captured the eye of an unholy individual.

Dr. Seward glared at the large wooden door that sealed and protected the castle's occupants from the outside world. Soon those who buried inside would face the light and pay for their sins. The time for retribution was now.

"The murders think they are safe behind these doors!" he loudly declared. "Let us prove them wrong – that they have nowhere they can hide!"

The men hollered in agreement and ramming against the heavy doors began. Dr. Seward watched as the doors caved further in with each thrust. Soon they'd let themselves in and cleanse the castle of its impurities. It'd been long past due.

A man approached his right and Dr. Seward recognized it to be his daughter's old childhood friend, Jonathan Hacker, who he'd invited along to take part in this vengeance.

"You should have marched at my side and helped lead this assembly. We seek revenge much stronger than the lot. The main honors shall be shared between us," he eyed him gravely. "The others have been well informed beforehand of who we pursue our reprisal."

Jonathan stared at the doctor against the rising sun's beams the glowed just past him. To attack the castle at the peak of a new day had been deliberate. The townspeople knew what they were up against today.

"The Holy Order does not advise – "

Dr. Seward growled irately. "Damn what the Vatican advises and what not! I thought you out of anyone other than myself would desire to kill this _monster_ for what he's done to us!" he stepped forward, his anger flashing brightly in his weary eyes. "To Mirena!"

Calmly Jonathan set a hand on the older mans wrist and lowered the finger that'd been directed in his face. He would not lose his temper, especially if he apparently was the only sane man here.

"I regret her death and mourn her just as you do but what you intend on doing today to avenge her is foolish. Your anger is only leading you to a fate similar to hers."

He watched as the doctor paused and seemed puzzled before a slow, regaled grin broke his mystification and his graying mustache curved up. The older man laughed deeply with no trace of humor.

Cautiously Jonathan watched the display and thought the man who he had once looked up to had gone mad.

"You think that the vampire had drained her dry, resulting in her death?" he inquired and Jonathan was thrown by how crudely the once sentimental father spoke of his deceased daughter. The doctor continued before he could argue his choice of words.

"Don't get me wrong, dear boy, it was the monster that ultimately led to her death, but he did not go about it alone. No, he had help in draining her life. A foul creature fleshed by his own sinful existence killed her from the _inside out_."

A cold weight settled deep within the pit of Jonathan's stomach. The longer he glowered at the doctor he continued only to see the man's self-assurance in the notion. But it was impossible. The dead could never birth anything living.

Jonathan's eyes snapped back to Dr. Seward when the man placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "She'd been pregnant." He found himself muttering aloud to himself. The other man nodded.

"Raped her I'd imagine, then forced her into birthing the sinful beast. Never a deed as cruel as that to force onto such a holy woman."

"And the child…?"

" _Demon_ ," Dr. Seward quickly corrected him. "The demon stole her life once leaving its mothers womb. Her body cold before it'd even gotten the chance to suckle upon her breast."

Jonathan turned his gaze back on the angry mob that continued to beat forcefully against the large doors. They'd give soon, and then the hells that transpired within the castle's walls will be exposed for them to see.

He'd investigated many creatures throughout his life due to his profession, but a living child conceived from the notorious _Count Dracula…_ well,he didn't quite know if he _wanted_ to look upon such a thing.

"I wish it to be you who kills it, my boy."

The look in Dr. Seward's blue eyes was full of such intense pain and grief that Jonathan would've thought the man to suddenly drop and weep. When he didn't respond the man reached out for him.

"For Mirena."

Finally, he held the other's gaze. "And what will be your business within the castle?"

"To kill the father of it all."

Jonathan would've laughed if not for the seriousness in the man's pained, callous voice. Many had tried to kill Dracula and had ultimately failed. The demon had been given his powers and blessed from the Devil himself. One couldn't kill what was already dead.

A loud splintering sound cut through the morning atmosphere and both men turned to observe how the mob succeeded in hammering their way in. The great door splintered in the middle before finally cracking where the locks held it together and burst open.

Dr. Seward removed his sword from its sheath and turned back to Jonathan one final time.

"You must take from Dracula what he has taken from me. There is no greater pain than the loss of a child." He looked at him solemnly. "I know you have a child of your own. Imagine yourself in my place if you must. Good luck."

The group of men roared haughtily when their leader raised his sword in the air before them. "Lets us ignite our revenge on those who have taken all that we held dear! To all who we have cherished! For those who we had loved and been slaughtered! Today we send them back to hell!"

A thunderous roar echoed off the stone and Jonathan saw the bloodlust written over the men's lost enraged expressions. If he even dared to attempt to stop and reason with these people about the foolishness they were doing then surely they'd string him up. He'd tried with Dr. Seward but the man was lost. It was hopeless.

Jonathan turned his attention back towards the bushes where he knew his son was waiting with the horses they arrived on. This was supposed to be a lesson for the boy on compromise but it was now to turn into a slaughter. His son would have to wait this one out.

The group filled into the castle like a swarm and Jonathan quickly blended into the mass with his sword now held firm in his right hand. He'd find the child and put an end to it like requested.

He'd do it for Dr. Seward, The Holy Order, and God, but more importantly for Mirena.

As he moved through the dark passages of the castle he couldn't help but feel intense guilt as he pondered where one would keep an infants nursery. He'd never killed a babe before but he was sure this was what God and Mirena would've wanted.

He hoped.

* * *

The sword pierced deep into the vampire and stuck itself firmly into the wood that lined the hallways walls. The vampire, a young woman dressed as a handmaid, screamed and reached a bloodied hand of sharp claws out at him. She'd been feistier than the others.

Jonathan heaved out a tired breath and walked backwards until he bumped into the opposite wall, having not turned in case she slipped lose and sprung at him from behind. She eyed him angrily before her expression changed to surprise and fear when he reached up and unclasped the lock that held the windows together.

He grasped the handle and yanked one shudder open, light pouring in the dark hall and shining directly on the vampire who'd been stuck against the wall. She screamed and he closed his eyes against the bright blaze as she was engulfed in a ball of flame that went out in a flash.

Her ashes crumbled to the floor and left his sword protruding on its own from the wall. Jonathan yanked it free and stared wearily down the hall where she had charged him. It was ominous in that direction, but that was nothing a little light couldn't fix.

One by one he unsealed the windows and let the morning rays fill the hall and felt content being once more in its grace where it was safe. The echoes of battle flowed up the staircase from below where the mob was battling the castle's other occupants.

He'd separated himself from the group luckily without any of them following because he knew this was something he had to do alone. Official Vatican work was what he convinced himself.

Jonathan's fingers froze just as he was to open another lock when he heard the faintest cry come from behind. He turned slowly, tuning out the clatter from below and focused. His heart sped up after he realized what he'd heard.

The child…

He gripped his sword and stepped silently down the hall that led deeper in the tower and held no nature source of light. The light of a lit torch just a little further down helped guide him until he grew close enough reached out to hold the constant flame for himself.

The further he walked down the hall and closer to the distinct sound of a baby wailing, the heavy his sword began to feel in his grasp. He tried not to think about the act because it'd only break his resolve. He kept convincing himself he was going the right thing by this.

He paused at the door where the crying was protruding from mingled with the noise of someone trying to hush the child. Knowing the child wasn't alone, he readied his sword and was surprised that the door was unlocked when he twisted it.

A woman, young and dressed as a servant like the last, stood with her back turned on the other side of the nursery, failing as she tried to calm the child in her arms down. The wood flooring squeaked when he stepped closer and the woman spun around, fear and surprise at the sight of him.

"Please…" she begged and cuddled the crying infant against her breast as if to shield it.

The sleeve of her dress slipped down and Jonathan noticed the blood that trailed in little streams down her arms from small puncture marks. She was human. He lowered his weapon and stopped where he was to not frighten her anymore.

"I will not harm you," he tried to calm her. "If you will only hand me the child."

That had the opposite effect and she glared at him so venomously that would do a vampire proud. "I will not let you harm him, _hunter_."

So the child was a boy.

Had Mirena known before she died?

Had she named her son?

He cleared his head of these thoughts. She wouldn't have cared to name the child that had been forced upon her. She had probably died before she had the chance to look at its monstrous face.

"This child," he took a step closer and the woman backed up. "Is the spawn of a force so wicked that has only the darkest of intentions for the child. Hand him here, and I see that he does not grow into the mold that his father has planned for him. God will be his judge."

"This child is my charge!" she cupped the boy's head with her hand. "Master has made me swear that no harm will come to young master Darius in his absence! I must protect him from the likes of you!"

Jonathan was momentarily distracted once she revealed the child's name.

Darius.

 _A man who possesses good._

Grief crept over him at the thought of Mirena choosing that name for her son because the Count surely would have ever preferred such a name. But why had she decided to name the child? How long had she lived after she delivered him?

Jonathan was brought back when the caretaker tried to flee out another exit that he had not noticed earlier. He sprint across the room and lunged for the scurrying woman, the torch slipping from his grasp and landing on the rug at their feet. It caught flame and the woman's eyes widened in fear and the child wailed louder.

He grabbed at her sleeve and her dress tore as she stumbled back into his chest. She struggled against him so hard that he thought she might actually accidently stab herself with the sword he tried to balance in his right hand.

He lifted a knee and brought it up firmly against the back of hers and she slumped forward, giving him the upper hand when he lifted the handle of his sword and brought it down hard on the back of her head. She collapsed and he managed to catch her and the child just before she crumbled to the ground.

The fire continued to grow as it burned its way through the rugs on the floor and reached the heavy curtains on the opposite wall. Jonathan dragged her body with him away from the flames where the heat wasn't so intense.

The baby wiggled in the mass of blankets that it'd been wrapped in and he was able to see the faintest trace of the child skin. The woman's limp arms slid away and Jonathan slowly lifted the child from her chest and set it down on the floor.

He thought about leaving it wrapped in blankets so he wouldn't have to look at as he killed it, but curiosity and the desire to see the last trace of Mirena that was left in this world had gotten the best of him.

Not quite sure with what he was going to see, he cautiously unwrapped the layers that bundled the child until he was exposed.

Over the roar of the flames and the child's fearful cries Jonathan barely heard the clanking of his sword that slipped form his fingers.

This child…had not been what he'd been led to believe.

It looked like a human baby and nothing more.

Jonathan realized then that he'd made a mistake by wanting to see the child himself. There was no way he could kill the boy now. He _refused_ to cause it any more harm.

Almost affectingly he reached out to trace the child's wet cheek and made a hushing sound. He smiled when it had no affect to cease its tears.

"This child may have been born by evil and destined to do evil but I sense that he does not possess any evil in him and therefore I shall not kill him as if he were so."

Jonathan securely rewrapped the child and brought him close to his chest to shield him from the thickening smoke. The child would come with him and he'd decide what was to be done with him afterward. First, however, he needed to escape the castle unseen with a crying child in his arms.

Simple enough.

When he exited the nursery he was surprised to have been met with more smoke. It appeared that Dr. Seward had truly meant what he said about _purifying_ the castle of its sins.

With the child cradled in one arm and tucked against his lower breast, he set out in a near sprint down the steps and through the maze of corridors. Bodies, both human and vampire alike, were forgotten and left to burn and the fire spread further enough.

The child, quite thankfully, had seemed to quiet down and Jonathan was able to slip past a few of lingering townspeople who were rummaging the castle for any of its valuables. They spared him a quick glance before returning to what they had been during, thinking that the way he clutched his lower chest was handling of a sore injury.

He let out a sigh of utter relief when he stumbled through the castle's main doorway and blinked past the bright rays of the sun. Besides the loud ruckus coming from the building behind him it was eerily quiet and he shivered at the odd sensation that raked down his spin.

Despite the sun being out and not a cloud in sight he glanced to the sky and was relieved to not find a giant winged creature swooping down on him. He had until nightfall to take the child and flee as far away from the castle as possible.

The child whimpered and Jonathan pulled it away from him to check on it, not evening thinking twice about exposing it to sunlight until the child's eyes tightened and his face scrunched up. He let his careless blunder slip when the child didn't suddenly burst into flames, which would've caught him on fire too.

He slipped into the forest that had been a few yards from the castle and immediately started calling for his son. A boy the age of six came running with two horses held by the reins at his side.

The boy seemed comforted to see his father until he noticed the way he seemed to be clutching his left side. He rushed forward.

"Father! What has happened? Are you injured?"

Jonathan smiled and placed a hand on his sons, Quincey's, narrow shoulder. "I am fine, my son, do not fret."

Quincey didn't look convinced at his father's assurance. "Than why do you clutch at your side?"

The boy gasped when his father revealed what he'd been secreting away in the layers of his coat. Quincey couldn't take his eyes off the mysterious baby presented before him.

"An infant? Was this part of your assignment?" he asked and looked back up at his father. "To locate and steal a newborn?"

Jonathan chuckled lightly at that. "This is Darius, Quincey, and he is to be your new baby brother."

His son's mouth fell open and he gawked at him in complete shock. "Do you really mean that? Does he not have parents of his own?"

Jonathan sighed and looked down at the baby and thought of its mother. "No," he said sadly and lightly slid a thumb over the child's red cheek. "Both his parents are no longer with us."

Quincey was quiet for a moment longer as he gazed upon the baby. "Then I will accept him as my little brother and help take care of him. I swear it father, I'll be a good big brother to him."

He couldn't help but grin at his son's bold statement. Too much like his mother he was. He knew his son would treat the child like he was one of them. He'd make a great role model for little Darius.

"May I hold him?"

"Later, Quincey," he put a hand on his sons back and ushered him toward the waiting horses. "first, we must return home before the sun sets. We have a long and tiring ahead of us."

His son looked surprised as he climbed on and settled onto his horses back "Are we running from something?"

Jonathan sighed as he climbed on his horse and held the baby securely with one arm and the reins with his free hand. His son and he trotted off side-by-side on a pathway that led away from the castle and deeper into the forest.

"Not if it doesn't know which trail to follow."

His son glanced at the baby in his arms but didn't question his father any further. Jonathan nodded at him before he kicked the side of his horse and the horse shot forward. He held the baby closely to him and prayed to God that he chose the right decision to spare the boy.

Even if God thought wrong of it, he had a feeling that Mirena would've been grateful.

* * *

 **AN:**

The characters I used in this chapter are characters from Bram Stroker's original _Dracula_ novel (Dr. Seward, Jonathan, and Quincey). The other character (Mirena) is from the _Dracula Untold_ film.


	2. Brothers by Name

**Disclaimer:** I do  not own Van Helsing or the characters from the original Dracula novel written by Bram Stroker.

* * *

 **Chapter: I**

 **Seventeen Years Later in the Bulgarian Mountains**

* * *

It was early autumn in Bulgaria and the forest trees that lined the hills were already starting their transformation from lush green to crumpling warm tones. The air grew dryer and the sun retreated sooner. The plants grew parched the insects fled elsewhere for vegetation.

It was a time of year when living things died but did so in the most graceful of ways. Slowly and beautifully they went about their cycled course until they saw fruition the following year. It was a fascinating development that always intrigued Darius since a young age – watching something continuously morph from one element into another, to _die_ only to come back to live once again.

He once believed that humans could do that same when he'd been younger and more naïve. His father had thought it enduring and said that he'd been partially right. When mortals died they became angels and were neither dead nor alive, just simply unburdened.

But for _supernatural_ beings…that was a different matter altogether. Some die and get sent to hell while others die and they just…continue living but remain dead, so technically they're the _undead_.

It's always confused Darius as a kid, and still kind of did now that he was older, especially when it came to the life sequence of vampires. All vampires were once alive at some point in their life, but when they changed from human to vampire they slowly began to die only to continuing living as…well, whatever they were.

All he really knew about their kind when it came to repopulating was that vampires couldn't give birth to something living since they were dead, logically enough, but were able to create another of their kind from those that were already living, so they couldn't bring back someone from the dead.

Darius knew much about the physics of supernatural creatures, he had to if he wanted to be like his father and older brother and join their Holy Order. He wanted to serve God and help those who couldn't defend themselves from Hells demons.

But also, he wanted to leave the farm on which he lived his whole life and see the _world_. He loved the sanctuary that the mountains provided but hated how secluded it put him from what else was out there, out beyond these hill peaks and dense woods.

Joining the Holy Order could provide him the freedom that he'd always yearned for. The next spring would make him eighteen years of age and he'd be able to prove himself worthy to the Vatican, but until then, he could do nothing but train harder and pray.

Darius sunk down in the shade against a tree off the walking trail that he found himself wondering down nearly every day for the past few years. When he didn't have to help his mother or father with chores after he completed his own he'd find himself exploring the forest's trails around the homestead.

In other words, he had too much time on his hands and not enough tasks to distract himself in. Living in the mountains was a simple life, a peaceful life, and a _boring_ life.

Oh, how he envied his older brother, Quincey, who traveled to different countries in their continent and experienced different cultures and actually made a difference in the world.

Quincey was older than Darius by six years, putting him at the age of twenty-three. Where Darius was petite and lean, Quincey was tall and thick in his robes with firm muscle. And like their father, his brother had brown eyes and dark russet hair, though one couldn't tell since Quincey had shaved his head since joining the Holy Order.

Darius caught a piece of hair that slipped from ribbon that tied the rest back and stared at the long black strand, thinking how he'd look with a cleanly shaven head. Instantly the image he had of himself didn't appeal to him.

He liked his long hair, despite how it annoyed him when doing his laboring chores, but he liked it nonetheless. It wasn't terribly long either – only reached the tips of his shoulders like any other grown young man.

Maybe he could convince the Cardinals to let him keep his hair until he became a full-fledged Holy Huntsman. It wasn't like he was enrolling to become a _Friar_ or a _Monk_.

"Still beating this worn out trail, are you Darius? Do mother and father not give you enough to do with yourself?"

Darius snapped his head in the direction of the pathway and found his older brother just a few feet away from where he sat, warm brown eyes twinkling in amusement and jest.

"And to think that I'd gotten away with the quieter job while you all slaved away in my absence. I can see now that I've been mistaken."

"Quincey!" Darius shot up and the two brothers met halfway and engulfed one another in a fitted embrace. It's been nearly two years since they had last seen each other, only communicating through indefinite letters when Quincey's profession permitted him.

The two pulled away but held the others forearm eagerly. Darius couldn't believe that his brother had really returned. The last letter he received from him mentioned nothing of it.

"Do mother and father know you're back? Were they aware of your return and hadn't mentioned it to me?"

Quincey grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think I could've snuck back here without father tracking me down first? And when is mother ever _not_ in the know of the whereabouts of her sons?" He shook his head and Darius laughed.

"I suppose mother nearly fainted then when you walked through the door."

"More like _I_ nearly fainted after she squeezed me so tight that my face started to turn blue. I swear my ribs have never been sorer from any of my skirmishes compared to that."

Darius grew excited at the idea of hearing all about his brothers travels and all those he encountered and battled over the past two years. The words in a letter could never quite capture the full excitement that a story told in person could.

He stared up at his brother and noticed how different he looked over the time apart. It's only been two years, and yet it seemed as though Quincey had aged more. He has bags under his eyes and his grin didn't quite reach the height that it once hand. And his tanned skin couldn't hide the new pink scars that littered his face and neck.

What all had his brother seen out there? Just how dangerous was it?

Darius turned his gaze away when Quincey stared worryingly down at him. He knew that his brother was strong and could take care of himself all on his own, but that didn't mean that Darius didn't worry about him and pray for God to watch over him.

"Are you all right, Darius? Is there something troubling you?"

Darius sighed and took a step back to stare over the edge and out onto the mountains tops where the sun was beginning to set. It'd be dark soon and their father would be mad if he stayed out this far from the house any longer.

"It's nothing."

Quincey raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't seem like nothing."

When he turned back around he saw him smiling gently but still had that brotherly concern in his eyes.

"I'll be eight-teen next spring and able to join the Holy Order and yet father still treats me like a child. I want to see the world and travel like you do, Quincey." He expressed passionately. "I want to have a purpose and fight but how can I if father will never let me leave the farm? He says I can but I _know_ he doesn't' mean his words. I can see it in his eyes that he is lying just to silence me if for a few days."

Quincey frowned and reached out for his shoulder but Darius moved back. He sighed and let his arm fall back to his side. "You're his youngest child and he cares about you. You cannot think that he does this out of spite or any ill intent. Plus, it's not like he and mother are growing and younger and this farm any smaller. You support them more than you know while I am away."

Darius let out a heavy breath and muttered lowly, "I bet it was father who sent you out here to retrieve me before the sun sets, wasn't it? Still treats me like a child who should be afraid of the dark."

"What had gotten into you, Darius?" his brother bafflingly asked. "I sought you out my own because I missed my little brother after almost two years of not seeing him."

When his younger brother didn't respond and moved forward and clasped his shoulder and squeezed encouragingly. "I know it may seem hard to picture yourself somewhere far off and away from home, but I know one day you'll get there. Just wait until spring."

His brother turned curiously back at him. "Where?"

Quincey gave a shrug and looked off to where Darius had been staring before over the mountains. "Wherever your fervent little legs carry you. God knows if you stay here any longer you'll carve a path straight through the mountain like the one you've started on here." He kicked at the dirt with his boot and grinned when Darius rolled his eyes.

He gave his shoulder another squeeze and small shake. "Now come on, let's return home before mother calls the hounds after us. I can bet she has dinner just about finished too."

Darius let his brother's hand on his shoulder remain there as they walked closely back down the trail side by side. He hadn't meant to get as emotional as he did with his brother. It just sort of happened. He blamed the stressful day of chores he had earlier in the day and the unwavering sun that hadn't given him break. He was _sure_ his shoulders were burnt red.

"Does father really not let you alone out at night?" Quincey asked interestedly and Darius nodded.

"Well, yes, but more so than before after the recent attacks that'd been happening in town lately. The Cromwell's, you know, the folks that live just around the bend from us, one of their servant girls gone missing. Haven't found her body yet unlike the two other victims from town who were discovered near the river."

"Are there any new leads on the possible culprit?"

"Last I heard they think it to be some rapid wolf. Odd, though, if true, that there haven't been any mauled farm animals. You'd think it'd go for the goats who tend to wander more on their own and further out than the sheep."

Quincey was quiet as he listened to his brother and pondered all that he'd said. It seemed as though Darius didn't suspect that the murderer could possibly be of the supernatural, a sign that Darius still wasn't quite ready for what he and their father did.

Maybe the farm was too much of a safe heaven for Darius, being so secluded from the outside world. He knew that Darius had never seen a monster of a creature before and he wondered if his brother actually believed in them despite all the knowledge he gathered and read.

"What do you think it is?" Darius suddenly asked in pure curiosity and Quincey gave a doubting shrug.

"Can't say I know enough of the situation to come up with a conclusion." He responded and his younger brother looked agreeably thoughtful. "Maybe father has learned more of this development and can provide with more information over dinner?"

"Doubtful. Mother doesn't like that kind of talk at the table."

Quincey laughed and Darius did also. "Then afterward in father's study. I know you and him both will be eager to also hear of my travels."

Darius's face lit up and Quincey chuckled when the younger picked up the pace. Silently he was grateful because the sun was setting quickly and Quincey wanted to get his brother inside before it did so.

Their father had been right for them to be fearful of the dark.

* * *

 **AN:**

I see Darius being very pale and thin for his age due to a lack of nourishment through the years of a certain red substance… The woman in his nursery from the prologue had been his human "feeder", resulting in the bite wounds we saw on her wrist. Must have been hard for him to quite cold blood like that… *Ba sum tss*


End file.
